


Odds Are (The Only Exception)

by Prinzenhasserin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, F/F, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prinzenhasserin/pseuds/Prinzenhasserin
Summary: Bernice is kidnapped by multiple people, and then she goes along with her prettiest kidnapper for reasons, reasons that have nothing at all to do with her kissing skills.





	Odds Are (The Only Exception)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nerissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerissa/gifts).



> Dear Nerissa! I hope you enjoy this tropey bit of fun <3 Thanks to rosefox for the very last-minute beta!

 

"Look," Bernice said, holding the edges of her sheer—suddenly too sheer—bathrobe closer together.  She hadn’t exactly dressed for company, much less two men invading her hotel room while she was in the bathtub and pointing a shotgun at her,. "This will lead nowhere. My father doesn’t pay out kidnappers." _Especially not inept ones_ , she wanted to add, but didn’t because she was in the aforementioned sheer bathrobe and that discouraged her smart mouth somewhat. "And even if I follow you downstairs, don’t you think my getup will be suspicious? I don’t see any other women walking down the street in their unmentionables."

The larger of the two men stayed unmoved. Bernice doubted he realized what a spectacle that would make: the mayor’s unwed daughter, walking mostly naked on the Chicago streets. The other one, however, slowly bent towards the first and whispered, "You know, I think she might be right. A woman like that, and naked? We’d attract crowds for miles."

Bernice grimaced. It was what she wanted them to think about, but did he have to put it like that? 

The larger man looked at her, then at his companion. He seemed undecided.

That was, of course, when there was a knock at the door. None of them moved, and Bernice was too afraid to say anything. 

"Room service," a woman’s voice called out, and then the door opened. Normally, Bernice wouldn’t have been suspicious, but she had ordered room service not an hour before, and the champagne bottle was resting in the bucket of ice on the side table. The maid uniform looked similar to the one on the person who had come before, even if the new maid was much more attractive.

"Hey, what are you doing—" the shorter man started to protest, but by then the larger one was bowled over by the delivery cart, and the woman had whipped out a pistol and put it against his temple, cuttin short any other attempts at interruption.

"I’m overtaking this venture," she said. Her hair was in tiny, whip-cord curls around her face, hidden slightly by her cap. Under the unflattering uniform, Bernice could see street clothes. The woman's eyes were shining with glee.

The man scrambled backwards on hands and knees, and Bernice, for the first time not in the immediate vicinity of a gun, yelled loudly, "Help! I’m being robbed!"

"Please be quiet," the woman told her courteously. Somehow it was even more intimidating that way, so Bernice shut up.

Within a few minutes, she had bound the two men with rope she had brought in her food cart. Then she mustered Bernice, who flushed, because she had been sitting there still in her sheer bathrobe. "I assume you want to dress first, before we leave."

Bernice was stunned by the presumptuousness. "I’m not leaving with you!" she said, very indignant.

"This is a kidnapping," the woman said matter-of-factly. "I’m not giving you a choice. You can, however, decide if you want to leave in that sheer slip of clothing, or if you want to dress in your normal street wear."

Bernice looked around the room, which contained her, the two almost-kidnappers, and the woman who was taking over the job. "Here?" she asked.

"The bathroom is free and there are no escape routes from there, if you would rather undress without people watching," the woman said nonchalantly, and Bernice spluttered.

The woman emptied the entire content of her closet out on the bed, and then stuffed the two men into the closet and closed the door. Bernice hastily grabbed her clothes and hurried into the bathroom before the woman got any more clever ideas.

About five minutes later, the woman knocked on the door of the bathroom and then came in again without waiting for an invitation. Bernice had just about had it with all these kidnappers and their rude manners. It didn’t help that the woman looked exasperated that she had not finished dressing. She didn’t say anything about Bernice’s awkward contortions trying to close her back zipper with the help of the string attached to it, but took over instead. Her hands were warm, which was unexpected and managed to calm Bernice down for some reason she didn’t want to examine closer.

Her kidnapper had changed out of her maid uniform—or rather, had taken off the maid uniform. She was now wearing a dress similar to Bernice's in a dark blue colour that brought out her eyes. She could have not looked more different if she tried.

With her dress finally zipped, Bernice fluffed up her hair in the mirror. Her kidnapper had taken out a tube of lipstick, and was painting her own lips in a shocking red. Bernice couldn’t help but stare. She made such a fetching display, and Bernice wouldn’t mind getting kidnapped by her at all.

Finished, her kidnapper grabbed one last item from the dinner tray: a purse matching her outfit. When they exited her hotel room, Bernice could feel the cold press of the gun against her back. "Please consider carefully whether you want to make a scene," her kidnapper whispered. They were pressed together in the elevator to the downstairs lobby, and Bernice could feel the woman's warm breath on her nape. It sent shivers down her back.

There were people in the lobby, and there were people outside on Michigan Ave, but Bernice didn’t make any of them pay attention. She kept quiet and let herself be prodded by her kidnapper to the convertible car that apparently belonged to her. 

"There’s one last thing I want to do to you before we leave," her kidnapper said, pressing her against the car door. "Do you mind if I kiss you?"

Bernice blinked. "—what?" she finally managed.

Her kidnapper—really, a beautiful woman—was very close to her face. "A simple answer would suffice," she said. “Can I kiss you? It’s vitally necessary for this deception to work.”

"Yes," breathed Bernice, because she could not say anything else, because she wanted that kiss, because the woman smelled so good and was warm and everything Bernice wanted in a woman, and why did she have to meet her under such strange circumstances?

Her lips were soft and eager, though, and Bernice sank into the kiss. It felt wild and daring, kissing in public. Even more exciting was smelling her kidnapper close, the feel of her lips against hers, the knowledge that her red lipstick would no doubt transfer to her own lips, a brand for everyone to see.

Her kidnapper let her go gently. “This will do for the public,” she said. “But I can be persuaded to kiss you more in private.”

And Bernice went into the car willingly.


End file.
